In Sickness
by productivelyfun
Summary: Set after Episode 78 of Lizzie Bennet Diaries: Lizzie falls ill while working at Pemberley Digital and ends up staying at Darcy's house until she recovers. Based loosely on the events between Bingley and Jane in Jane Austen's "Pride and Prejudice". Mindless Dizzie fluff :)
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note: I am new to the world of FanFic so please be kind! This is just some mindless Dizzie fluff while we have to wait for the new episodes of the Lizzie and Lydia's videos. I, of course, do not own any of the characters in either Pride & Prejudice, or Lizzie Bennet Diaries. I am merely a huge fan who has too much spare time on her hands and an overactive imagination. I hope you enjoy this anyway! Feel free to comment and share if you like it. There are more chapters which might come later on! Also, some spelling may be different. We do things differently here in Australia :)  
**_

* * *

_**"In Sickness"  
**_

Lizzie sat in her office at Pemberley Digital, staring blankly at her laptop screen. She was supposed to have ideas for this afternoon's board meeting all drawn up and ready to contribute, but she had been feeling awful for days and it had been struggle enough to keep her eyes open and even talk. She coughed, and sipped at her lukewarm tea, desperately trying to muster up some energy and motivation to complete her work, however nothing came of it. She sighed, and put her head on her desk, and closed her eyes temporarily. She just had to get through today and she could relax and recover for two days. She was going to see Jane this weekend – her suitcase was in the corner of her office, and every time she laid eyes on it, she felt relief seep through her. Jane would look after her, and she'd be able to come back on Monday full of energy and ready to deal with Darcy, who had been popping up all around the office and catching Lizzie off guard.

She didn't mind running in to him around the office. It was inevitable when working on the same floor as him, but he just always seemed to catch her in less than ideal moments and situations, which often led to awkward and embarrassing conversations with him. Lizzie thought that she should be used to him by now, but every time they spoke something seemed different with him. Each conversation seemed easier - less forced and slightly less awkward. How long that would last for, Lizzie didn't know. But at least she was receiving more than monosyllabic answers from him these days.

"Elizabeth," a voice said from the doorway of her office.

She snapped her head up off the desk and her eyes fell on Darcy, who stood framed in the doorway, holding a large folder of meeting notes.

"Darcy. Hi," she croaked.

It wasn't until she spoke that she realized how horrible she sounded. Evidently, Darcy thought so too. His brows knitted together in concern over his clear blue eyes and he studied her face carefully. Lizzie blushed furiously. She didn't want Darcy to think she'd been slacking off! She only had her eyes closed for a minute, and she wasn't going to let a silly head cold make her appear as being weak in Darcy's eyes. Lizzie straightened up in her chair and pulled her cardigan closer around her body.

"I was just finishing up some things for this afternoons meeting," she continued in a raspy voice. "I'll have them done in about an hour or so. I'm sorry that it's taken me so long to get them to you."

"I don't care about that," he replied.

Lizzie remembered the way he had said those words to her on camera, and her heart fluttered a little. Although she remembered these words, she was trying her hardest to _forget_ the way he looked at her the other day when Gigi had trapped Lizzie and her brother in the office. His eyes were softer, he smiled more and had even made an effort to make conversation with her. All of these things had taken Lizzie by surprise, and in a total role reversal it was her who stammered awkwardly, and had replied to questions with short answers. And then she had touched his arm. Voluntarily. She wasn't sure why or what had made her do that, but the look on his face was a mixture of surprise and confusion.

"You seem quite unwell," Darcy continued, bringing Lizzie back into the moment. "You are welcome to sit this meeting out until you feel better."

"No! I'm Ok. I'm fine thanks," she replied quickly. She almost had Darcy convinced too, until a series of coughs escaped her body.

Darcy walked over to her and studied her face again, this time not convinced of Lizzie declaration of health. Lizzie's hair, while usually so neat, hung limply in a half-hearted attempt at a ponytail. Her eyes were bloodshot, her face was far more pale than usual, and she shivered slightly despite the warm temperature in the office.

"Please, Elizabeth, you are not well. We have a nurse down on the ground floor. I'd be grateful if you went to see her. Take the rest of the afternoon off if you need to."

Lizzie smiled gently.

"I appreciate that, thank you. But I'll have plenty of time to rest when I see Jane this weekend," she motioned towards the suitcase in the corner of her office.

"Of course," he said. "Well, if you are determined to sit in on this meeting, I will not argue with you. But please do not feel obliged to attend. I will think no less of you if you decide that you're not up for it."

"Thank you," she replied.

Darcy excused himself and returned to his office. Lizzie still continued to find the sudden personality change that had occurred within Darcy surprising. He was far more polite to her than he ever was before, more loquacious in general and his kindness towards her and the rest of his employees was amazing. Lizzie was suddenly beginning to understand why he was so well thought of within the company. Part of her was disappointed to learn of Darcy's nature now, after saying all those horrible things about him on her videos, while the other part of her was interested in observing the way he interacted with people in his company. Lizzie had no idea what had forced him to suddenly become this new version of Darcy, but she wouldn't deny that she liked this version of him better.

Lizzie took another sip of her tea and forced herself to concentrate on the work in front of her, rather than analyzing Darcy's nature. She just had to last a few more hours before she could curl up on Jane's couch, eat snickerdoodles and watch terrible TV shows. Maybe Jane and Charlotte were right. Maybe Darcy wasn't so terrible after all ...


	2. Chapter 2

Midway through the meeting, it was evident that Lizzie was in no way going to be able to last the day. She vision was swimming, her head was pounding and every time she coughed she felt as though her chest was going to explode. No matter how hard she tried, there was simply no way she could keep up with the figures and statistics that were being analyzed when her head felt as though it was made of lead. Darcy was still politely concerned

Reluctantly, she stepped out of the meeting during the tea break and took herself down to the Nurse's office on the ground floor.

While she waited, she busied herself with answering texts from Jane, and Charlotte, the latter very interested in Darcy's recent behavior.

_I keep telling you, he likes you Lizzie. That seems to be apparent to everyone but you._

**_Has he taken a severe blow to the head recently? That's about the only thing that could change his mind after what I said to him._**

_How else can you explain it? You told him his arrogance, pride and selfishness made him the last person you would fall in love with. Isn't that what's _

_changed in his behavior?_

**_Well, yes, but couldn't that just be who he is at work?_**

_Perhaps. Why do you care all of a sudden?_

**_I don't! I just find it interesting, that's all._**

_If you say so._

But that was a blatant lie. Lizzie did care, and she had invested a lot of time thinking about the man she swore she would never fall in love with. She thought about the way his face changed when he smiled, and the gentle way he spoke about his sister. She thought of his brilliant mind when it came to business, and the debates they had over the smallest of things. All she could do was think about him. His eyes, his scent, his ridiculous fashion sense, his –

"Miss Bennet?

Lizzie snapped out of her train of thought and stood up as the nurse summoned her into a small consultation room. She was a kind and quiet lady, and examined Lizzie thoroughly without saying too much unless she had to. By way of small talk, she only asked what Lizzie's plans were for the weekend, listening patiently to Lizzie's raspy voice as she spoke about Jane and the terrible TV shows they were going to watch. When it came to taking Lizzie's temperature however, the Nurses eyebrows flew up and she checked the thermometer again in case there was a mistake.

"Goodness me, Miss Bennet! You're burning up!"

"Well, that explains a lot." Lizzie mumbled.

"Perhaps it would be best to pay attention to Mr Darcy's request and take the afternoon off. You'll be needing these I think," She rummaged around the medical supply cupboard and handed Lizzie a blue box of antibiotics. "Take these three times a day. They're strong, so make sure keep your fluids up and take these before you eat. You'll need to rest dear. I wouldn't suggest going anywhere for the next few days, much less travel in an aircraft to see your sister. If your temperature is any indication of what's going on, you'll probably be crashing out by the afternoon."

Feeling defeated, Lizzie thanked the nurse and returned to her office to collect her things, coughing periodically. She had been looking forward to seeing Jane and picking her brains about Darcy' actions towards her while she had been at Pemberley. She walked across to her desk and picked up the phone and dialed reception.

While she waited for Mrs. Reynolds to answer the phone, Darcy appeared in the doorway. He waited patiently while Lizzie was on hold, flipping through some paperwork from the meeting.

"Mrs. Reynolds? It's Lizzie Bennet," her voice sounded scratchy, and every syllable she spoke send razorblades down her throat. "Would you be so kind to order a cab to come and pick me up please? Oh, fantastic. Thank you."

She gently put the phone receiver down and looked over at Darcy.

"I assume you're not feeling any better," he stated, closing the manila folder and walking over to her desk.

Lizzie shook her head, and wrinkled her nose, trying to downplay her illness so she wouldn't come across as being childish. People got upper respiratory tract infections and laryngitis all the time. But she couldn't deny that she felt terribly weak and unwell.

"I've felt better. I do, however, need to head home."

"Whatever you need," He replied simply.

"I'm really sorry. I'll email you the notes and statistics I've been working on as soon as I can."

"That's probably the last thing I care about right now," he replied. "I hope you are able to enjoy some of your weekend."

Lizzie suddenly slapped her forehead.

"Oh my God, Jane!"

She rummaged through her bag and extracted her phone. Quickly, she composed a message to Jane, coughing heartily.

_Too sick to fly to LA. Save me some snickerdoodles. x_

As she pressed send, Darcy spoke again.

"Elizabeth, I believe our house is much closer to Pemberley than the apartment where you're staying. Why don't I get Gigi to take you back to our house? The house keepers will be happy to get you anything that you need."

Lizzie was taken back by this offer, and stared at him blankly.

"I couldn't," she croaked "I mean, thank you, but I really don't want to impose."

"You wouldn't be, I promise you. And I'm sure Gigi would love having you around too."

Lizzie thought of her cold apartment, and the hour-long cab ride it would take to get home in her current state. Sure, it would mean potentially running in to Darcy after he finished work, but surprisingly she didn't seem to care about that right anymore. Something in Darcy had changed, and she didn't find herself loathing being in the same room as him anymore. She felt quite the opposite actually, and it would be an added bonus getting to spend some time with Gigi. She wasn't Jane, but she enjoyed her company all the same.

All Lizzie could think of right now though was some soup, a comfortable bed, and some uninterrupted sleep.

"Ok," she replied finally.

Darcy smiled gently, and pulled out his phone.

"Mrs Reynolds, it's William. Could you please send for my car? Miss Bennet will be needing it," he paused whilst looking at Lizzie, who was miserably gathering her belongings and coughing seriously. "That's correct. Miss Bennet is unwell, so I would appreciate it if she didn't have to wait too long. Thank you."

He hung up and slipped his phone back into his pocket.

"The car will be ready for you soon. I'll text Gigi now, and she can show you where the guest room is. If you need anything else, you need only ask."

"Darcy, I –"

"It's Ok," he said. "I hope you feel better soon."

He turned around and walked back to his office, leaving a very stunned Lizzie staring at the door frame where he stood seconds earlier.

Lizzie picked up her suitcase, flipped off the light and went to find Gigi.


	3. Chapter 3

By the time Lizzie arrived at Darcy's house, she was feeling worse than ever. She was sure her fever was worse than it was at the office, and her breath rattled in her chest from all the coughing. But even in her unwell state, she could appreciate how amazing Darcy's house was. It was a large Victorian style house with immaculate gardens that (despite its size) had a very welcoming feel to it. Gigi sat next to her in the car as they drove down the endless driveway, telling her how the house had belonged to her parents, and that nothing in the world could ever make her or Darcy leave it. Once inside the house, Lizzie could understand why. How every un-Darcy like this house was. It was homey, with it's muted colours, and clean interior designs. Lizzie had thought Pemberley was amazing, but it had nothing on Darcy's mansion.

Gigi grabbed Lizzie's suitcase, and took her upstairs to the guest room. After showing Lizzie where everything was, Gigi excused herself and left Lizzie to settle in. Lizzie was relieved to finally be able to stop, and rest. She changed out of her work clothes and into some yoga pants and a tee shirt before pulling out her laptop. She was determined to finish her work from this morning, but the warmth and softness of the bed lured her in, and soon after her exhaustion dragged her into sleep.

Lizzie lost track of time. Between her fever coming and going, restless sleep and her sheer misery at being sick when she was supposed to be with Jane, she had no idea what day, or what time it was. Every now and then, the housekeepers would bring her some food, and a jug of cold water, but Lizzie never felt like eating or drinking. She didn't watch TV, she didn't even read – All she did was sleep and try and ignore the realistic fever dreams involving Darcy that she kept repeatedly experiencing.

In her dreams, Darcy hated her the way she had initially loathed him just after they had met, and when she had awoken from that dream, her heart was pounding, and she was overwhelmed by her anxiety. But her dreams went from one extreme to another. In her other dreams, she had been talking to Darcy, the exact same way she did when she was filming her last video. But rather than touch his arm before he left, she had kissed him instead. When she woke from _that_ dream, she had no idea how to feel. All of her fever dreams had started to blur together and she was having trouble trying to decipher what had actually happened, and what was just a figment of her currently overactive imagination. She vaguely remembered getting up to shower and brush her teeth, but otherwise the time since she arrived had been nothing but a feverish blur.

Every now and then, Gigi popped her head in to check on Lizzie, and make sure she was as comfortable as she could be. Her visits were frequent, but never really long, and she always seemed to be texting someone when she was in the room with Lizzie. Lizzie guessed it was Fitz, and wondered what plan the two of them were concocting now. Although she absolutely adored Gigi, Lizzie was glad her visits were short, because trying to keep up with Gigi's bubbly personality often left Lizzie feeling as flat as a sheet. Most of all, Lizzie missed Jane, and wished fervently that her illness would abate soon for her to be able to go and see her sister again. Maybe Jane would be able to make sense of her fever dreams ...

A few dark rays of sunlight made their way through the gap in the curtains of her room, and Lizzie was dimly aware that it must be some time in the early evening. There was a soft knock at the door, and Lizzie turned her head on the pillow to see whether Gigi had come back, or whether the housekeepers were bringing her more water.

But it was neither. Darcy came awkwardly into the room, dressed remarkably casually, but with a look of concern evident on his face. Lizzie squeezed her eyes shut, trying to ignore how relaxed and attractive he looked. But after he appeared in her dreams so frequently, it was not an easy task.

"You're awake," he stated.

Lizzie nodded in response and opened her eyes to look at him again. He was sitting in chair near the bed now, his clear blue eyes assessing Lizzie's current state of health. She coughed, which sent her head spinning and she rested a hand on her forehead in an attempt to stop Darcy's face swimming before her.

"You're not working," Lizzie managed to say in a weak and raspy voice, trying to distract him from examining her while she was feeling under the weather

"It's Sunday," he replied, shrugging. "Contrary to popular belief, I _do_ actually have periods of time when I'm not tied to my laptop."

"Wow, I must be extremely delirious," Lizzie said, "I thought I just heard you make a joke, Darcy."

He smiled at her, the whole countenance of his face changing. Lizzie had never noticed the way his face lit up when he smiled sincerely. She had caught a glimpse of it occasionally when he spoke to Gigi, But not like this. This was completely different smile, and it was because of _her_.

"It's been known to happen. How are you feeling?"

Lizzie shrugged.

"I don't remember it being Sunday," she said, slightly confused.

"Sunday evening, actually," he said quietly, "You had a raging fever yesterday and basically slept for the entire day."

"Really? How did you even know that?"

He held up his phone and raised one eyebrow; the barest hint of a grin on his face.

"Gigi. She's been sending me progress reports on you."

"Ah," Lizzie said and ran her fingers through her tangled hair. "Of course."

"Gigi also said that Jane called while you were asleep and asked after you," Darcy continued. "She sends her regards and said to expect a care package next week."

"Oh Jane," Lizzie said, smiling slightly. She was missing Jane so much right now, and all she wanted to do was be with her sister. While she was being looked after extremely well at Darcy's house, she longed for a familiar environment and company. She had been pretty much by herself since Friday except for Gigi's brief visits.

She looked over at Darcy, who was sitting relaxed in the chair with his legs stretched out in front of him. His hair was slightly rumpled and there was a hint of stubble across his jawline. Lizzie enjoyed looking at this version of Darcy. There was no pretentiousness, and Lizzie felt as though she was seeing a side of Darcy that only very few people got to see.

"I'm sorry to have stayed so long," Lizzie said suddenly, realizing with a jolt that she had been here for days now.

"It's been a pleasure to have you," he replied, his cheeks flashing crimson. "Even if the circumstances are unfavourable."

Lizzie blushed too, before coughing again. She was suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling of loneliness and misery from being so unwell. Darcy must have noticed a change in the expression on her face too, because he took that as his cue to leave, and stood up, clearing his throat.

"I should let you rest. If you need anything, you need only to ask."

He turned to leave, before Lizzie spoke again.

"Hey, Darcy?" she asked in a raspy voice. "Could you ... maybe ... stay?"

Her voice was uncertain, and carried the slightest hint of a plea. She didn't want to sound desperate to have him stay, but she also didn't want to be alone when the fever dreams struck again. Despite how she previously felt about Darcy, she really enjoyed having him around, and bantering playfully with him. He didn't always talk to Lizzie, and she was pleased to find someone else who appreciated silence in conversation, without feeling the need to fluff it up with a generic question about the weather. Plus, it was fun to rile Darcy up. Once Lizzie got him ranting, she had entertainment for hours.

Darcy looked surprised at her request, before nodding and pulling his chair closer to Lizzie's bed. Although she smiled at him, there was still sadness and exhaustion in Lizzie's eyes, which Darcy didn't fail to notice. He reached over and quickly squeezed her hand before grabbing the Tolstoy novel from Lizzie's bedside table and opening it to the first page.

"If you lose my place in that novel, there will be hell to pay," Lizzie joked. Darcy smiled at her with one of his half-smiles that Lizzie had grown to adore.

"I wouldn't dare," he replied.

Lizzie succumbed to sleep once again, and Darcy stayed next to her, abandoning his reading to study her face while she slept. Her hair was fanned out over the pillow, and her eyelashes were dark crescents against her pale skin. She looked vulnerable, yet oddly peaceful. She was a mix of contradictions that Darcy wanted to spend the rest of his life figuring out. Darcy didn't need Tolstoy at all to occupy him for the evening. Looking at Lizzie Bennet without being in the middle of an argument with her, was much better than any damn novel.


	4. Chapter 4

Lizzie woke up to bright rays of sunshine streaming in through the bedroom windows. The seat that Darcy had occupied last night was now empty and she felt a twinge of disappointment that he wasn't there. She didn't remember him leaving, but she could remember the look on his face when she asked him to stay. His eyes had softened, and he had smiled before pulling his chair closer to her bed, making himself comfortable and reading Lizzie's book.

She reached over and picked up the Tolstoy novel and checked that her bookmark was still in the same place. She wasn't lying when she said there'd be hell to pay if he had moved it.

"It's an interesting read," a voice came from the doorway. Lizzie looked up to find Darcy walking towards her, carrying a small tray with a steaming of tea as well as some delicious smelling pancakes. "It's not a genre I would normally read, but I enjoyed it nonetheless."

"You read the whole thing?" she asked in surprise.

Darcy shrugged and put the tray down on the table next to her bed, before sitting in the chair next to Lizzie's bed. He was still dressed in the same clothes he wore last night, and he looked slightly sleep deprived, but otherwise, his face was relaxed.

"I'm a fast reader," he replied casually. "Besides which, I thought it would be better if I had read the entire novel before engaging in debates with you regarding the subject matter."

Lizzie grinned and put the book down beside her.

"A wise decision. Although you know very well that you don't stand a chance in those debates anyway" she joked.

Darcy chuckled in amusement.

"Is that for me?" she asked, motioning towards the tray.

"It is," he replied, passing the tray to her. "I didn't know what tea you liked, so there are a few different types of tea leaves to choose from. I find green tea with honey usually gets me through board meetings when I am unwell," he replied, slightly embarrassed while looking away.

Lizzie was surprised he volunteered this information. She had always thought Darcy to be invincible and completely insusceptible to falling ill. Somehow hearing this information made him seem more … human.

"The coffee, however, is for me," he said, and picked up the coffee cup off the tray before settling back in to the chair and taking a sip.

Lizzie smiled at him, and began seeping tea leaves in a small pot. After days of barely eating anything, Lizzie's appetite had come back in full force and she began nibbling at the pancakes, which were even more delicious than they smelled.

"Wow, she said appreciatively. "Your chef is an excellent cook!"

At this comment, Darcy blushed furiously and focused on the coffee cup in his hand.

"I'm glad," he replied simply.

It suddenly dawned on Lizzie that today was Monday and that Darcy should have been at the office by now, rather than sitting here with her. Her heart fell slightly as this realization.

"You're late for work, you know." She said, sipping her tea gently.

To her surprise, Darcy shrugged.

"That tends to happen when I stay up late reading."

Lizzie smiled, warming her hands on the teacup. Darcy was right, green tea and honey was an excellent combination, and soothed her throat greatly.

"A regular occurrence then?" she asked.

"It can be," re replied, with a half smile on his face. "I'll be heading in soon, but I just wanted to make sure that you were feeling better."

He said the last part of this sentence awkwardly, turning the coffee cup around in his hands before finally meeting her eyes.

"I am," she replied softly, "Thank you again for your hospitality for the past few days."

"Anytime," he said, "You should know you are always welcome."

Lizzie blushed. They sat in a companionable silence while Darcy finished the last of his coffee and Lizzie caught herself stealing glances at him every now and then. This was Darcy as she had never seen him before, and it intrigued her greatly. How wrong had she been about this man?

"I should probably head in to work," he said, standing up.

"Of course. Have a good day, Darcy." Lizzie replied awkwardly.

Darcy nodded, and left the room quickly. Lizzie finished her breakfast in silence and read a few more chapters of her book. When she had opened to the page where her bookmark was, a small piece of paper had slid out. She picked it up and found that she was staring at Darcy's phone number, which was written in his familiar handwriting. Darcy had given her his phone number. _In a Tolstoy novel_.

She grinned, and shook her head in amusement. After reading a few more chapters, she closed the book again and dozed back off to sleep.

Lizzie awoke to the sound of the housekeeper coming in to her room.

"Good morning miss," she said kindly. "I was just coming up to see how you were feeling, and to see if you wanted some breakfast. But I see you have already fixed yourself something to eat!"

"Oh yes, those pancakes were delicious. Thank you so much for making those for me." Lizzie said, smiling at her.

The housekeeper smiled back politely, but looked blatantly confused.

"I beg your pardon miss, but I'm not sure I understand. The chef and I have only just arrived, you see, and Miss Darcy is not yet awake."

"Oh," Lizzie replied, surprised. "Of course. Well, thank you for coming to check on me. I appreciate that."

The housekeeper smiled at her kindly, and picked up the empty tray.

"Can I get you some more tea though, miss?" the housekeeper asked.

"That would be great. Uh, green tea please. With honey please." She said, her cheeks flushing crimson.

The housekeeper nodded and swept out of the room. Lizzie pondered over the strange conversation, recalling the look on Darcy's face when she complimented the chef. Comprehension suddenly dawned on her.

Quickly, Lizzie picked up her book, and pulled out the piece of paper with Darcy's phone number on. She paused for a moment, holding the slip of paper in her hand, wondering if she dared to send him a text message. Finally, she picked up her phone and began composing a new message. She hesitated, trying to find the right thing to say. She looked at the text message again, before finally hitting send.

_Your secret is out. Thank you for the pancakes, Chef. Lizzie._

A minute later, a reply came in.

_As always, you are welcome. Just don't tell Gigi._

Lizzie smiled, and snuggled back under the blankets with a feeling of warmth spreading through her. She had been completely wrong about Darcy, but in the best possible way. He wasn't robotic, and devoid of human emotion at all - he just had a difficult time trying to express what he was trying to say. Oh yes, how completely wrong she had been about him. Her phone buzzed again, and she saw another text from Darcy.

_I'm taking dinner requests if you're interested._

__She grinned, and quickly typed back in reply.

_Absolutely._


	5. Chapter 5

If anyone had tried to tell Lizzie a week ago that she'd be hanging out with Darcy and would actually be enjoying herself, she would have told them that they were crazy. If Lizzie had told herself that she'd spend a whole day sick in bed, texting the Pemberley CEO back and forth … Well, she would have asked Jane if she _was_ crazy …

But that's exactly what had happened, and now here she was having an extremely relaxed dinner with the man she had once called a robot. Only there was nothing robotic about him now.

Darcy sat on the couch next to her, with his feet resting on the edge of the coffee table, picking at the last parts of his dinner. He was completely relaxed – wearing jeans, a dark coloured shirt and, in what had to be a first for Darcy, he was barefoot. His hair was rumpled too and Lizzie couldn't help but notice that this Darcy, both in looks and personality, was the polar opposite of the Darcy she had met so many months ago. While Darcy was completely at ease this evening, Lizzie was an absolute bundle of nerves.

She had spent hours (yes, hours!) preparing herself for dinner this evening. Lizzie had applied minimal and natural looking makeup that drew attention to her eyes, rather than her red nose that had been attacked by too many tissues over the past few days. She dressed in a simple, yet flattering dress, which she had worn with ballet flats. She had pinned top section of her hair back, leaving the rest of it to cascade over her shoulders. She wanted to be prepared for whatever Darcy had planned.

Lizzie had expected Darcy to go all out, and to have them eat in the dining hall with vast amounts of distance between them as they sat across the table from each other. She had envisioned it to be an awkward event, which had disappointed her because she felt differently about Darcy after this morning's events, and the text messages they had exchanged all day.

But Lizzie had never been able to predict anything that Darcy did, and she was relieved to find that he had thought of something more relaxed and low key. Lizzie and Darcy had eaten dinner on the couch, while watching movie adaptions of classic novels and dissecting them accordingly. She was grateful for this – the very thought of the dining hall situation exhausted her, and she had to remind herself that she was still sick and not to over-exert herself, lest she take a turn for the worse.

"So?" he said, putting their plates down on the coffee table in front of his feet.

"So what?" she asked playfully.

"How did you enjoy your meal?" he replied, blushing slightly.

"I was really nice, thank you." She replied, "Would you like me to give it a star rating, or would you prefer if I gave you a tip at the end of the evening?"

Darcy chuckled and shook his head in amusement.

In truth, Darcy's cooking was _amazing_. For some reason, she had assumed that because he had a chef, he either didn't know how to cook, or wasn't very good at it. It was just another way that Lizzie had underestimated him. She really did have to stop judging people before she knew them completely. That being said though, she was enjoying finding out about all of Darcy's hidden secrets, and all the ways she had been wrong about him.

She had learned more this evening than just whether or not he was able to cook. She learned that he was fluent in four different languages (and had tried very hard not to swoon when he had quoted a verse from Shakespeare's _Henry V,_ in **French** nonetheless), and that he liked things well ordered because that is what his father had taught him. She had learned that while Gigi was considered the best musician in the family, that he also played the piano brilliantly. She had learned that he was athletic (which explained a lot about his figure) and even though he had great potential in the sporting field, he elected to follow in his father's footsteps and take over Pemberley after his parents passed away. She had learned that he enjoyed reading novels that challenged him, both intellectually and emotionally. Darcy was a man of many talents, most of which went under the radar due to Gigi's accomplishments. But Darcy wasn't resentful towards his sister at all – if anything he appreciated the fact that Gigi's talents drew the focus away from his own. Darcy was a complex man, and Lizzie found herself trying to piece together all the snippets of information he offered her throughout the evening, in an attempt to finally understand who he was as a person.

"Would you like something to drink?" he asked her, picking up their plates to take them into the kitchen.

"That would be great," she replied, smiling.

"I believe that wine has excellent medicinal properties. Would that be suitable?"

Lizzie grinned. She had also learned that he never said anything in a simple manner, which she found entertaining and … endearing. (_That _emotion had caught her off guard earlier. But Lizzie was learning that being in denial had a tendency to complicate things unnecessarily.)

"Yes, thank you."

Lizzie watched him walk out of the room towards the kitchen before standing up to stretch her legs. She was exhausted, and her headache had returned, but Lizzie was enjoying herself far too much to call it a night.

She studied the books that were neatly lined up across the bookshelf, and rubbed her arms to fight off the chill of the air. She pulled out an old, weathered copy of _Moby Dick_ and opened it to the first page. As she scanned the page, looking for what edition the book was, her eyes fell upon a handwritten note on the title page.

_"My dearest William,  
Always remember to follow your heart as well as your dreams.  
With love forever,  
Mum"_

Lizzie felt goosebumps sweep across her skin, and she carefully returned the book on the shelf before returning to the couch. How terrible it must have been to have his world shattered and drastically altered when he was so young. Lizzie suddenly felt awful for being so hard on her parents, especially when she was in the company of a family that had none. It was true that her mother drove her up the wall, but at least she _had_ a mother. Darcy walked back in with two glasses of wine, and looked concerned after seeing the expression on Lizzie's face.

"Is everything alright?" he asked, handing her a glass.

"Yes, " she replied, smiling and shaking herself out of her thoughts. "Absolutely."

Darcy sat down next to her, slightly closer than he had before and studied her face.

"You're a terrible liar," he observed. Lizzie winced. Nothing got past this man. Throwing caution to the wind, she spoke.

"I just read the note from your mother inside your copy of _Moby Dick_," she confessed, "Sounds like she was an amazing woman."

Darcy smiled sadly, before taking a sip of wine. He didn't reply.

"I'm sorry Will, I didn't mean to be nosy. I was just seeing what edition of _Moby Dick _you had and I saw your mother's handwriting."

He looked at her suddenly.

"You called me Will," he commented.

Lizzie froze, before meeting his eyes. He wasn't angry; rather his eyes had softened slightly.

"Is that ... I hope that's ok?" she asked shyly.

"Absolutely," he replied, "I would like that."

They sat next to each other in silence, sipping their wine. Their shoulders touched and sent shocks through Lizzie's skin. She wondered what was running through his mind – his expression was somewhat distant, though not agitated in any way.

"So," he said finally, "I think I'll take the tip about my cooking, rather than receive a star rating. It's always nice to know what to improve on."

Lizzie's heart raced at his words. Despite his words, she knew he was talking about much more than just cooking. For the second time that evening, she mustered up every ounce of courage with in her, and turned towards Darcy.

"A tip then," Lizzie said slowly, trying to feign being calm. Blushing slightly, she finally met his eyes. "Don't change anything else."

Darcy suddenly leaned in and kissed Lizzie gently on the lips. Once she got past the shock, she responded to his kiss, her hand gently resting on his face. They broke apart seconds later, both with flushed cheeks. Lizzie smiled up at him, catching an expression in his eyes that she had never seen before. There was a lightness in them, which Lizzie was captivated by. He smiled back at her, before gently resting his hand upon hers. Their fingers intertwined, and Lizzie had to control her racing thoughts.

"You still like me?" she asked him uncertainly.

"I never stopped," Darcy replied, "I couldn't."

"Even after everything I said?" she asked in disbelief.

"I don't care about that," he said, "This is what matters. Lizzie, I have never stopped loving you and I wouldn't have wanted it any other way."

Lizzie didn't know how to respond to that, so she leaned in, and kissed him again. Her hand rested on the back of his neck, as his arms wrapped around her. Their kiss was fueled by passion, and forgiveness, and Lizzie found herself never wanting this moment to end. This man, a total mix of contradictions, had managed to capture her heart, much to Lizzie's surprise.

There was one more thing that she learned about William Darcy that evening. She learned that he was an _excellent _kisser.


End file.
